


Family Sometimes Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:16:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Uninvited visitors arrive with a few assumptions about Peter and Andrew and finds themselves in a shit load of trouble, up to the neck in duckweed, wiping the muck out of their ears - well, you get the drift.  And that was without Peter and Andrew even joining in!Several years after the end of the war.





	Family Sometimes Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be

**Author's Note:**

> For more about Amy Ann and the welcoming place Bess and Maggie found, see 'And Time Shall Not Diminish' in the Garrison's Gorillas fandom.

The McCaudle brothers, the big, burly black-haired pair of them, were looking to buy some of that vaunted chestnut horseflesh Haven Homestead produced. They had a nice spread in Wyoming, had a couple of lines breeding nicely, but a trip to see their grandparents in Wales had peaked their interest in expanding their operation, especially if those horses were near as fine as what they were hearing over the dinner table.

No, regardless of how that sounded, 'a trip to see the grandparents in the old country', Angus and Derrin weren't the sentimental type.

Actually, they had traveled to Scotland to take care of a little matter for their father - a little matter that could be more properly called 'fists across the sea' than 'hands across the sea', and one their father thought the boys could get done more easily and without suspicion than he could. Especially if they didn't announce their names too clearly. 

Well, he HAD made a rather uncertain name for himself back there, and there were those with long memories. If one of his old associates suddenly met with misfortune and he was in the vicinity, no telling what those interferring sods might think. Not that he was intending for Culhane to meet with misfortune, of course; not if the treacherous bastard coughed up the money he'd cheated Arran out of all those years ago! After all, they'd been supposed to SPLIT the blunt they got from swindling that farmer out of his wool profits! Instead, there had been McCaudle, having to hightail it for America while there his erstwhile partner sat, smiling like a chessy cat on the whole lot!

It had been their father urging them to combine that job with a little side visit to Wales, reminding them that "your mother's people have money, not that you'd think it to see the way they live. House is little more than a cottage; did better than that building this place first time out. Land they have, though, better than some, and the livestock, and to hear it, there's a tin mine and probably more filling their coffers, no matter how little they show it. 

"Best make yourselves known to them. Don't want them taking a notion to leave the blunt to their cat or their church or some damn fool notion like that. If they had any sense, would be me they'd be leaving their bit to, but they have a burr up their butts about me for some reason. And they might not be overly smart, but they surely have sense enough not to leave it to a woman, so that leaves your mother and sister out. Yes, since you're in that part of the world anyway, make yourselves known to them. And not just that, mind you. Let them see you for the fine men you are, strong, solid, hard-minded businessmen, ready to stand your ground, well able to tend to things properly! Impress the pair of them! It'll see you right in the long run!"

So they'd set out to impress the old ones, and general conversation about the breeding operation they had going on the property they'd purchased next to their parents had led them to hear about those 'brae ones fra down Haven way! Glossy as red silk, they are. Gait just as smooth as silk too. And smarter than most men who'd think to cross a leg over them. Loyal and well-mannered in the right hands, but with a fierce spirit as well."

They'd asked about the possibilities of picking up some breeding stock, but their grandfather had shaken his grey head regretfully. 

"Oh, aye, would be a fine thing to have one or more a them; were I younger, I'd be looking to one of their saddle horses, or maybe one of the milder ones for the cart for Maddie. Prime, aye, every last one of them! As for breeding, well, can't see any breeding line not improved wi' the adding. But Haven, they're right cautious about letting any of the breeding stock out of their hands. They'll sell a few geldings now and again, but there's a long line waiting for those. The mares, only the ones they deem barren, and there's been hardly any of those, and none I've heard that they were proven wrong about."

Angus had protested, "but we're in the States, hardly in competition with them! Surely they'd take that into consideration. If it's the money, well, it was a good year. We can afford to make a bit of a splurge."

Derrin pushed, "how do we get to Haven, and who do we talk to when we get there? Who's in charge?"

Old Bern glanced at Maddie. The boys, now men, were just as stubborn as their daughter had written them through the years. "Would stand and try to argue a fence post out of their way rather than go around!" their Bess would write them, and here was proof of it. Well, and hadn't they had proof of a few other little traits the boys had inherited from their father, devil take him. 

He'd not seemed such a bad one, Arran McCaudle, when their daughter had married him in that far off town in America where she'd gone to help their oldest daughter after an illness, but seems time and proximity had shown her more than a little that would have caused her to think through that decision more closely had he shown himself clearly beforehand. Their granddaughter, Maggie, she seemed to take after her mother, bless her, with none of the troublesome ways of the boys that plagued their Bess so, and the grandparents had wished, more than once, that it was Maggie and Bess who'd come avisiting instead of the boys.

"There's a family who's had the property for longer than anyone can recollect - the Clan O'Donnell, they be. The latest is Mistress Caeide O'Donnell. Has her two menfolk with her now, since the end of the war. One English, one American. Names Peter Newkirk and Andrew Carter. Don't know who handles the sales for the livestock; I've heard they pretty well divide up the duties, but share in them too. Might be any or all three you'd need to deal with."

Derrin frowned thought. "Newkirk? Carter?? Good Lord, I KNOW them! They're alive??! Didn't expect that! Sure as hell didn't think to find them HERE!"

Angus looked at his brother. "You know them? That could help! Where from? Don't think I've heard you mention the names."

Derrin was looking inward, remembering, then shook himself as if shaking off bad memories. 

"They were in the camp same time as I was, in Germany. Well, they were both there when I arrived, and were there when I was transferred out. Were the reason I WAS transferred out, in fact, least that's my belief. Not that anyone flat out told me that; told me damn all, in fact!!!

The dark cloud settling over his face pointed to that not being something he appreciated. He should have, actually, at least the transferring out part, what with Hogan arranging for the Underground to grab that transport truck and head the four transferrees off on the pipeline to England. 

Of course, he was never told that, for a variety of reasons. One was that Hogan had decided all four were unreliable and spread the word to be super careful what was said around them. Also, due to McCaudle's temperament, not much of anyone WANTED to be spending any more time with him than they had to, in conversation or in any other way.

And Derrin was right, one of the reasons was Newkirk's addition to the instructions given to Rene, leader of the local Underground. "And that McCaudle bloke, you don't tell 'im squat, don't let 'im over'ear anything 'e shouldn't. Talks too bloody much, 'as too many opinions not backed up by anything going on in 'is brain, and just aching to cause misery for someone. And don't leave the blighter around anyone not able to take care of themselves, Tiger or Jon or anyone else. Got notions, 'e does. Woulda put the boot up 'im more'n once if the gov 'adn't gotten snippy about it."

Now a sly smile gradually came to Derrin's face. "I remember them both, quite well. Enough I think we'll have no trouble convincing them to sell us whatever we want. Hell, probably beg us to take our pick, however many we want, just for me to keep my mouth shut!"

"Talked tough, swaggered around, but you know what he DID, Newkirk, I mean? What his claim to fame was in the camp? Aside from being a sneak thief, I mean? A seamstress, if you could believe. You needed something sewed together or mended, he was the one to go to. Even knew how to knit! Like I said, talked tough, but when he got caught out on something by the head kraut? All whimpery and whiny and head tucked down. All "yes, sir, Oim sorry, sir, never do it again, sir!" Kowtowing to the damned kraut like some sissy kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar!

"The other, Carter, was a nodcock," knocking his knuckles against his head, "you know, wooden head. Coulda talked him into just about anything, and him always going around with that gaupy country bumpkin look on his face! Supposedly part Indian, but not half as smart as the dumbest of those I've ever seen! And neither of them a real man, if you know what I mean, no guts or they would have gotten themselves out of there. Both in that same barracks as the senior officer and a few other misfits. A Frenchy about as big as a rooster, another guy too pretty for his own good, and even a nigger! Hell, didn't even know they put those in the same camp, much less in the same building. Figure he had his reasons, though, if you know what mean," with a salacious laugh, waggling his eyebrows. "Officer's privilege, and the only woman around being the head kraut's secretary, you know."

"Well, could have said the same for a lot of them there, I mean about being real eager to please the krauts, if you get my drift. Would you believe, the damned place even had a reputation for no escapes? Cause no one there had any bollocks left, no one except the newcomers like me. Even the officer in charge - oh, he was cocky as all get out, walked around like he was king of the world, thinking to tell everyone else what they could or couldn't do, but he sucked up to the head kraut like he was a wobble-legged calf and that kraut his mama. Didn't want to get the big man mad, oh, no! But he'd sure as hell shoot you down if you started talking up an escape plan! Shoulda all been brought up on charges after all the shooting stopped, all of them, if you want MY opinion! Cowards, every last one of them!"

Maddie didn't dare glance at Bern. Her husband of many years knew how to darn a sock and sew on a button and mend a seam, and knew how to click the needles as well. Many a Scotsman, many a Welshman knew the same. Obviously their grandsons' father was one of those who didn't. 

And knowing when to stand your ground, when to give way, in that kind of a place? Only made sense. And, though they'd not mentioned that to their grandsons, they'd met Peter Newkirk and Andrew Carter, found them both canny enough, and also 'manly' enough to suit most anyone, and for certain the mistress of Haven found them so. As for the first, no O'Donnell woman would have chosen elsewise than right canny, and as for the latter, well, HOW many children were over there now, each of the boys bearing the stamp of his father, whichever, firmly on his face? Though, as far as those at Haven were concerned, there was no distinguising that way - the Haven childen, the sons and daughters of Caeide O'Donnell each had two fathers, simple as that, and no disputing that fact.

Maddie cast a worried look over at her husband, only to get a tiny shake of his grey head, along with a disgusted look. No sense trying to talk sense to this pair, he seemed to be telling her, and he was probably right. Still, it didn't seem right, them visiting their blight, as they were beginning to think of the duo, on even such far away neighbors. And neighbors they were, even though Haven was a good three villages away.

Neither Bern nor Maddie had forgotten, or be likely to forget two summers ago when Bern had taken sick, the local doctor not seeming to find a reason, and her wondering how she was going to manage, along with wondering if she was going to be a widow by summer's end. 

It was the two men from Haven, along with Haven's Mistress, who'd showed up at the Gregory cottage with another smiling man who said he was Patrick O'Donnell, commandeered by his sister Caeide to see if he could be of assistance, seeing as he was a doctor and already visiting them and all. It was Caeide and Maude, and the two men as well, who'd spelled Maddie with caring for Bern so she could get some rest. It was Haven folk who'd helped with the stock and much else while Bern was regaining his strength, and come autumn, it had been Haven folk, along with others they'd enlisted who'd helped with the harvest and made sure all was snug for winter-time. 

They'd talked it over, quietly, once they'd turned in for the night. They agreed there was no likelihood of talking reason with their grandsons, and they were uneasily aware of what Bess had written them of the boys inheriting their father's temper, along with his hard fist and hard ways. What to do?

They might not have telephone lines strung everywhere, but the area grapevine was a wondrous thing at times. Haven had enough good will built up that there were those who'd go out of their way to make sure that grapevine could even manage an 'Express Delivery' when there was a need. Thus that signal flag that had been run up high, the one that summoned Caeide to town on a day she'd not normally have made the trip.

And the reason? Bern Gregory's trip to the blacksmith in his own village, two villages over, had led to the blacksmith's oldest son discovering someone had misplaced the very tool he needed to make those repairs to that firescreen a customer was demanding "and right away, if you please!". 

That had required an immediate trip to the next neighboring village and the blacksmith there. Old Cobbie had that tool, was willing to lend it out, certainly, and the two men saw no harm in passing the time of day while Cobbie searched out what was needed. By then it was near time for Cobbie's 'elevenses' at the cottage of his son and his family.

Surely twas only happenstance that caused Cobbie's daughter-in-law to decide she had a sudden fancy for that special jam they only seemed to carry over in the NEXT village over, "Madge gets it local, you see," and together with their oldest boy, headed out briskly to satisfy her craving. And, if in the asking for that jam, there was also the quiet handing over of a note, laborously penned by the elderly Gregory duo, that wasn't anything to go gossiping about.

Caeide left the housegoods store with a thoughtful expression on her face. Madge had apologized for sending that flag flying "when your goods really HADN'T been in that box that came in on the morning train; can't imagine what I was thinking!," but had also been quick to deliver that folded piece of paper with a knowing nod.

So it was that before the McCaudle men had even planned out their approach, Caeide was clicking her tongue at Roster, currently harnessed to the cart, to hurry along to let Peter and Andrew and the others know they could be expecting company.

"Bloody 'ell! McCaudle??! Now there was a right rounder for you! Remember 'im, Andrew? Trouble from the minute 'e stepped down off that truck, 'im and those three mates of 'is." 

Peter snorted in disgust, then nodded his thanks as Caeide poured him a whiskey. 

Andrew frowned, "McCaudle, he's the one we got shipped out that same month he got there, right? The one who we caught sneaking stuff outta the Red Cross packages? And after that, thinking him and his guys could push some of the others around, make them hand over the chocolate and stuff?"

"That's the one, right enough. Still remember 'im trying to get you in deep with the guards over that little job the Colonel 'ad you doing in Klink's quarters. Lucky 'e picked Langenscheidt to go telling tales to."

The deep look of annoyance on Peter's face showed how well he'd taken THAT little event.

Andrew nodded, but told Caeide, "well, I sorta couldn't blame him. Well, yeah, I could, cause I was just doing what the Colonel said to do. But McCaudle really didn't like it when I wouldn't let him go in with me. Well, gee, I couldn't have him see me adjusting those microphones, could I? He'd already proved he had a big mouth. But he really did get upset when I signaled Kinch and LeBeau to come help get him out of the way."

Peter snorted, "well, and that in the 'elping, McCaudle ended up on 'is arse on the ground, AND got a good lecture from 'ogan about minding 'is own business. Didn't make 'im think any more kindly of Louie or Kinch, that's for sure! Tried to stir up trouble in that corner, too; might 'ave managed a bit if we 'adn't booted 'is arse out right quick. Colonel saw 'im and 'is mates on their way back to London, via the Underground, though THEY never knew that, acourse."

With a frustrated sigh, he added, "well, if they're 'eaded this way, it's likely to turn nasty. Best let the others know; no telling w'at the bastard's likely to be spouting. None too fond of Andrew 'ere, and bloody well 'ated my guts by the time 'e'd left."

"Yeah, well, you DID go out of your way to make your point, you know, Peter. Finishing up by getting the Colonel to assign him to shoveling out the latrine, and all," Andrew had explained to Caeide. "And that 'accident' while he was doing it."

"Accident?" Caeide asked with raised brows, knowing Peter quite well.

"Now, Caeide-luv, it WAS! Not my fault that ladder 'ad a weak rung that gave way just w'en 'e was 'alfway back up again," Peter Newkirk told the two listening to his protests. Somehow, he didn't get the impression either of them believed him. 

In all fairness, he didn't know that he'd have believed him either. While that weak rung might not have been his fault, well, he HAD forgotten to mention that McCaudle might want to be a little careful with that one spot that wasn't quite as sturdy as it might have been. He did mention that little 'shove' he'd given McCaudle in 'helping' the man onto that transport truck. Andrew hadn't known about that, and only shook his head reprovingly at his partner now. Caeide hadn't frowned, but that shake of HER head was one more of amused understanding. No, Peter would NOT have missed the opportunity for a little last-minute explanation of things.

The kids tumbled in, laughing, all talking at once, relating their activities of the day so far, chores done, animals visited with and tended, wildlife observed, lessons learned. Once things quieted down a bit, treats handed around, the adults (those designations - 'kids', 'adults' - being perhaps a bit arbitrary, both sides) proceeded to explain they might just be having unwelcome visitors in the next few days.

After hearing that one of the men had been in camp with their fathers, though not on the same standing as their Uncle Louie or Uncle Kinch, or some others they knew or had heard about, the youngsters exchanged solemn if somewhat puzzled looks. They left it to Jamie to start the questions. Well, the youngest set of twins, Liam and Morgana, pretty much left it ALL up to the older two sets, but they were listening closely.

"So, one a them was there, for a bit, anyway, and didn't make many friends. Pissed you both off right well, even. So, why would they think they'd be welcome 'ere?"

"Just looking to cause trouble, most likely!" Peter snorted. He was pretty sure McCaudle would try to use what he knew about the camp, about the men - or THOUGHT he knew, anyway - to work a sly deal on some of the stock, but he and the others wanted to see what their children would make of the situation without any hinting in that direction. As their Caeide would say, "lessons come in all shapes and sizes, and so does the testing. It makes no sense to pass up the opportunity when it comes your way; their lives may depend on just that particular lesson being taught well and learned just as well."

"Nay, Da, that makes little sense," Louisa chided him with a shake of his head. "That's a goodly trip to be making just for that. Seems he was on the lookout to gain points, maybe line his pocket back then, from what you've said. Might be thinking to do the same here. Maybe thinking telling stories would make you wary of bracing them too hard, thinking to make you agree to what you'd not otherwise."

Andrew chimed in, "you can't always judge by what a man does in a hard place like that, you know, kids. Maybe he's changed. Heck, maybe he's wanting to apologize or something." That got him a questioning look from everyone, Peter, Caeide and their assorted offspring. No, Andrew was just as canny as the rest, but he DID like to give someone the benefit of the doubt as far as was reasonable. And Caeide was sure right about those lessons and all, and it was only smart for them to think on things from more than one angle.

There was a space of quiet while they all considered that, then Kat firmly shook her head. "Might be so, Daddy Andrew, but more likely they think to use their tales to make sure they ride away with some of our horses. Not that there's much likelihood of that, but didn't sound as the one was overly knowing to begin with."

Karl frowned, and asked, "Da, Daddy Andrew, why would they think what they were saying would cause you to sell them our mares? Were you supposed to be ashamed of that, whatever they think to say, afraid for us to know? Did they think WE would be ashamed to know? That's fair stupid. You both did what you had to do to keep each other alive, and the others too. You've told us a lot of that already."

"Probably not near all," Louisa said with a knowing look, "but enough to know there was a lot of what you said Sergeant Schultz called 'monkey business'. And more than a bit more, I'd think, you being in a bloody war, not playing cards at the local."

No, they hadn't told all, there was a lot the kids were too young to hear, or at least too young for Peter and Andrew to look into their eyes and tell the worst of the stories. Perhaps the time would come for that, but somehow, they knew they'd still read the same love, the same acceptance there that they always had, as they did now. In their children's eyes, in Caeide's eyes. The two men gave each other a rueful grin; they were lucky in their family, they knew that damned well.

Caeide watched that little interplay between her two men at the same time she watched their children. {"No hesitation on THEIR parts either, Sweet Mother bless them! Well, they're not Outlanders, after all; they're Clan, through and through, with Peter and Andrew's contributions only sweetening the whole!}

"So, the question is, how do we handle this?" and over a second round of those fat oatmeal cookies, the situation was discussed, and tentative plans made. All would depend on the approach the McCaudle's used, of course, who was available when it went down, but there was enough there to give them all a goodly measure of confidence in the outcome. And, depending on how things fell into place, this just could be an ideal opportunity for another lesson or two, perhaps even a testing of how well certain lessons had been learned.

The car was struggling by the time it reached the end of the long lane that led to Haven. Most in the area still traveled by cart or horseback, and the roads weren't so accommodating to more modern modes of transportation. Of course, it was that way in their part of Wyoming, too, but it hadn't helped their disposition any.

Still, they were well enough pleased with themselves, their prospects. While they didn't know much about sheep, the flocks they could see off in the distance seemed fat and healthy, the fields well-tended, the orchard the same. But what really took their attention were the horses. It seemed their grandparents had been right, at least at first view. Proud stance, glossy coats, intelligent wary eyes following the movement of the men as they got out of the car to go and lean on the fence surrounding the pasture.

"Can see any number that would do nicely," Derrin commented, with Angus nodding a satisfied agreement. "What do you think, just mares, or maybe an uncut horse too?"

"Doubt they'd have a second stallion around, and can't see them agreeing to let go of their only one, especially one that produces any like those," Angus said, nodding at the colts kicking up their heels and chasing each other in sheer exuberance. "We've got Busker; he'd do just fine. Or we could 'borrow' old man Lawrence's Speckles again," snickering at how they'd managed that little trick a couple of years ago. Well, no harm done. The young stallion had had himself one hell of a good time, their starting herd of mares got serviced, and they'd searched right along with all the other neighbors for that 'rascally Speckles who'd jumped the fence and went off star gazing.' 

"Pity Haven is so far away, else maybe THEIR stallion might go star gazing now and again," Derrin laughed. "No telling when a randy stud might go looking for a pretty mare or two other than what he's already been provided."

Angus elbowed Derrin in the side, "remember how Maggie kicked up such a stink when she caught sight of Speckles in the barn? Said we owed old man Lawrence stud fees!"

"Yeah! Hell, thought she was joking, til she got all pissy when you told her that wasn't old man Lawrence who'd mounted those mares, and that Speckles had taken HIS pay out in trade. Saying our providing Speckles with a few days of free room and board was wrong, causing Mr. Lawrence all kinds of worry, and trouble for those who'd gone searching for him. Called it 'stealing', us letting him mount our mares. Even got Mom on her side. Took Dad lifting his hand to the both of them to get them to shut up about it!"

A young female voice piped up from behind, "sounds like this Maggie's a sight smarter than you, then. Seems our mum would call it the same if someone pulled a fast one like that with one of the family's studs."

The two wheeled, instantly on guard, but relaxing when they saw two kids mounted on tall chestnut geldings, neither more than maybe ten or twelve or so. Putting a genial smile on his face, Angus moved forward to put his hand on the neck of the nearest of the chestnuts, only to snatch his hand back as the horse curled his lip and made a snap for that offending member.

The rider, a boy with dark hair and blue-green eyes, smiled coolly. 

"Don't like you, seems like. Well, Mum always did say 'enry was a right good judge of character."

"Now, you didn't hear the whole story," Derrin protested, thinking quickly. "We were just funning; we paid the stud fees once the foals came along. No harm done. No call to go getting your mum upset. Besides, it's not nice to tell tales."

Angus interjected, with a stern look, "and it's not nice to be listening to other people's conversations, either."

Both children's eyes centered on him. 

"Don't worry about our mum getting upset," the girl assured him. 

While the boy spoke with a decided Cockney accent, the redheaded girl had more of a lilt, similar but not the same as their mother and grandparents. 

"Heard our Da say, more than once, "our Caeide don't get upset, so much; more likely she just gets even." True enough, too," she nodded knowingly. "Not so much as with our aunts, of course, or Cousin Cally. Mum has a temper, but she's really the mildest of the lot. Hasn't tossed anyone over the cliff to the sharks in the longest time. Must be almost six months now, don't you think, Jamie?"

"More like seven, 'Ouisa. And she didn't toss that last one. Didn't need to; 'e ran right over the edge, 'er and 'er whip and Pris with 'er long teeth not two yards behind. One before that that she took after with the whip, now 'e ran in the other direction, not toward the cliffs. Made it to the train station just in time for the outbound to Cardiff." That smile was not particularly comforting.

As unbelievable as that all sounded, the two men didn't get the impression the kids were lying. {"Hell, they sound like it's not even anything unusual!"} Angus though uncomfortably.

Changing the subject, he asked, "so, your mum, she's Caeide O'Donnell, the one in charge of Haven? Well, we need to talk to her. Want to maybe buy a few horses. Our grandparents put us in the notion. You may know them, the Gregory's, a few miles over."

Cool eyes looked them up and down. "Don't look much like them, but maybe you're telling the truth. Partly at least. Wasting your time about the 'orses, can tell you that right off; there's none for sale. But doubt you'll be taking my word for it. We'll see w'at Mum 'as to say. Expect Da and Daddy Andrew will be 'aving their say as well. 'Ouse is down that way," Jamie directed, jerking his chin to point the way. 

Louisa cautioned them, "no detours, now. Straight to the house, knock on the front door. Someone will be there; if not at first, just sit in your car for a bit, then try again. No guarantee they'll talk to you, but we'd not want to be inhospitable to the family of a neighbor."

Angus and Derrin got back in their car, drove down the lane, those horses and riders close behind.

"Angus, you notice both of those kids had guns? And the girl had a big-ass whip too. You think they know how to use them?" Derrin asked, uneasy at the thought. Well, yeah, he and Angus had been taught how to use guns early on, but that was Wyoming, not Wales!

Behind them, Jamie kept a goodly distance, enough he could pull back quickly if they stopped suddenly and came at him, but trailing them well within view. Louisa split off to pull the small radio every member of Haven carried when they went out.

"Mum, those two are here. Were looking over the horses. We sent them your way, to the front door, but seems you'd best count your fingers if you shake hands with them. Most likely need to check their pockets when they leave as well. They were laughing and joking about a fast one they pulled on a neighbor back home. For some reason, their sister and mum didn't agree with their menfolk's considered making off with a stud horse to let him service their mares while letting the owner think the horse had 'strayed off' was 'just furthering a little equine romance', rather than theft of services. Mentioned their father had to use his fist to make their sister and mum see reason about it. Henry doesn't like him and I doubt Hugo did either; for sure, Jamie and I didn't fancy them." She ended the transmission and quickly moved to catch up with her brothere.

The men pulled up the the front of the house, sat for a moment, thinking. Their first attempt at knocking got no response.

"Probably do better going around to the back. Get a better look at the place that way anyhow."

"Kids said the front door, Derrin," Angus commented.

"Yeah, and since when do we take our orders from a pair of snotty brats?" walking around the side through the hedges. 

The long porch at the rear was occupied with two smaller occupants of Haven, another redheaded girl and a boy with lighter hair than the other one they'd met, standing along a small table.

Going for the friendly approach, Angus smiled and walked to the broad steps. "We need to speak with your mum. She inside?"

That got him a long, considering look from both kids. 

"Mum's busy, no time for talking," the boy commented before checking the contents of the box between the two of them, clearly dismissing the two.

Angus didn't much like that, and his smile became a little forced.

"I'm sure she'll have time for us. We're here to talk business. She in the kitchen? We'll just go in, have a word with her," starting to move up the steps, Derrin right behind.

The girl glanced up, not frightened, just annoyed. "Karl said she's busy, and no, she's not in the kitchen. Not enough room in there for the job she's tending to. Strangers aren't allowed inside, not lest they're invited, and you've not been. You want to talk, you can take a seat on the bench over there, and wait til she's finished," nodding to a wooden bench maybe twenty feet into the yard. 

The two brothers looked at each other, frowning. Somehow this was a level of self-confidence they'd not experienced with youngsters before. 

"Well, we're not real fond of waiting. How about you just tell us where she is," Derrin growled, coming up one more step.

With a far more impressive growl, a huge wolfhound moved from the shady spot where she'd been keeping watch. Amazing how sharp those teeth looked up close, especially in a beast whose shoulders were at the mens' waistline!

By then the brothers had reached the top of the stairs, centered between the heavy wooden posts that flanked the broad steps. 

THWAP! THWAP! Their heads jerked as a knife flew past each of them, landing in those posts. Yes, now they could see the small targets tacked in place, and the knives were at dead-center of each. They turned incredulous heads back to see the youngsters with yet another knife in their hands, tossing them gently in the air and catching them.

"You're interrupting our practice time; Mum's not going to like that. Like Kat said, you need to wait over there. Shouldn't be too long. Mum's gelding a 'orse; she's right good at it, don't take 'er no time at all. Expect she'll be back real soon," Karl informed them.

"And could be Da and Daddy Andrew will be finished afore then; could do your talking to them, if you like. Whether they'll be interested in talking back, though, can't say," Kat told them with a casual shrug.

The brothers were obviously considering their next move when the sound of horses' hooves came close. 

"Houses must be different where you come from," came a politely genial female voice they'd heard before. "Around here, this is called the KITCHEN door, not the front door. Ah, well, different places, different customs."

Jamie weighed in, leaning forward with a smile. "Bench for waiting is over there, like you were most likely already told."

There were footsteps from inside and the kitchen door opened. 

"Well, now, look who we 'ave 'ere. And just w'at brings you to our door, McCaudle?" the dour faced Englishman asked.

"Newkirk. It's been a long time," Derrin grunted. Somehow, the lean but well-muscled man he was facing seemed a long cry from the rail-thin craven image from his memory. There was an air of self-confidence, of strong capability neither visitor had been expecting.

"Not near long enough, to my mind. Asked you once - w'at are you doing 'ere? If you're selling magazine subscriptions, don't believe we need any," was offered in a sarcastic tone.

"Well, gee, Peter," came from the second man now stepping out onto the porch, "I don't know about that. Maybe they have National Geographic; I've missed that since our subscription ran out. You know the kids really liked it too," Andrew chattered on.

{"Yeah, same knucklehead as before!"} Derrin decided. He wasn't finding Newkirk any friendlier than he'd been back in camp either, no matter the other differences, nor Carter any improvement over the dunce he remembered.

"No need to go 'aving any truck with rounders like McCaudle for that; expect Caeide's already taken care of the matter, with all the whining that's been going on about that bloody magazine," Newkirk protested.

Carter's face brightened, his eyes purely shone, "really??! Neat!"

{"Yeah, same knucklehead."}

Derrin scowled, "don't know what the hell you're talking about!! Came about horses, not magazines. We're visiting our grandparents, the Gregory's, a couple of villages over, and they said yours might be worth taking a look at. Might be a few we'd be willing to take off your hands, if they meet our standards." 

No, he wasn't going to seem too eager, not right up front.

"None for sale," was the terse answer.

Angus shot a fast glance over at Derrin, then back to Newkirk and Carter.

"Now, don't be that way. Think maybe you could find a few you'd not be minding to hand over to us, and at a real bargain price, too. Though, if you aren't interested in talking business right now, we COULD spend a little time down at the village. You know, have a few drinks, a meal, getting to know the locals. Bet there's all kinds of things we'd have in common; all kinds of things they could tell us. Probably some things we could tell them too. Derrin says he remembers the pair of you, from that camp; all kinds of interesting things he told me."

He smiled a rather cunning smile, thinking that would provoke a response. It did, though hardly the one he expected.

"Oh, like you getting kicked out of camp for being untrustworthy? Or your trying to bully some of the guys into giving up their Red Cross packages? Maybe about you thinking to tell tales to the guards to get Andrew 'ere in trouble? Yeah, sure you could come up with any number of things. Seems a little disrespectful to your grandparents, though. They've done nothing to get a bad reputation, least not that I've 'eard; 'ate to 'ave you dropping yours on their shoulders."

"Peter!" Andrew scolded. "Now they were just joking! They wouldn't do anything like that, would you, guys? Why, that would be like you two telling tales HERE, trying to upset Caeide and the kids! That just wouldn't be nice!"

The McCaudles were more than ready to prove they weren't all that nice, and had no hesitation about starting to lay out some dirt in front of the kids or anyone else.

"What wouldn't be nice, Andrew-love?" and they whirled to see a redhead in heavy work clothes standing behind them. It wasn't a particularly reassuring sight, what with the grim look on her face, and the bloody knife in her hand didn't help the image. Nor that whip coiled at her waist. NOR the second huge grey dog at her side.

"Caeide, these are the McCaudles, kin to the Gregory's. They say they want to buy some of the horses. Peter told them we don't have any for sale, but I don't think they believe him."

Those cold amber eyes hadn't moved from the two interlopers. 

"Seems you have your answer, gentlemen. Our horses are not for sale. Now, if that's all, a good day to you and I'll thank you to be on your way. This is a working place; we've little time for idle chatter."

Derrin got a stubborn look on his face. "You might want to listen to what we have to say. And we have a LOT to say. If you don't want to listen, bet we can find others who will."

Kat chimed in, "seems they think they have all kinds of stories to tell, mum. About Da and Daddy Andrew. Stories they were thinking of sharing with us, maybe even the neighbors, or so they say."

Karl piped up, "seems they think Da and Daddy Andrew wouldn't like us 'earing their stories, nor you or others neither. Seems to think Da and Daddy Andrew should just up and agree to doing a deal to keep them FROM doing that telling. That doesn't seem very nice, just like Daddy Andrew says."

"Think 'e 'as a point there, mum," Jamie admitted. "Still, don't see any 'arm letting 'im take a closer look at some of the stock, like they seem to be wanting to do, with them coming all this way and all. You're always saying we should be reasonable, not overreacting like some might do."

Caeide swung her eyes to their oldest son. "Yes, I remember me saying that, ever so often," only the two visitors not grasping the deep amusement at that statement. "So you think we should give them a closer look at our ladies?"

Louisa nodded enthusiastically, and leaned down to whisper, though not too softly, "aye, mum. We could use the money for seed, you know, and maybe an extra shipment of books and such. Da and Daddy Andrew may not be so eager, but if these two and some of the ladies get along well, you can talk them around. And after all, the Gregory's ARE neighbors, at least somewhat."

Newkirk and Carter argued, but with one wave of her hand Caeide cut them off. Angus and Derrin exchanged a glance, snickering softly. It was easy enough to see who wore the pants around here. Well, from what they remembered, no great wonder.

"Very well, perhaps a closer look. We have any close enough so as not to waste any more time?" she asked the older twins.

"Aye, there's Rosa and Annabelle, along with Flo and Firefly, in the field back of the barn," Louisa offered. In fact, she and Jamie had made certain of that, along with another of the Haven residents.

Caeide looked at the two, wanting to laugh at the helpful duo, their innocent eyes looking back at her. 

"Yes, those should do nicely. Very well, gentlemen; you wanted a closer look, come along. I haven't all day, you know."

Somehow it wasn't just the Mistress of Haven and the two visitors, but the whole lot who trailed over to the pasture behind the barn. It was easy to see that Angus and Derrin were impressed, and well they should have been. The four mares were glistening in the sunshine, placidly chomping at the green grass, nickering to each other.

"Well, go on," Caeide offered impatiently. "Can't tell a hell of a lot from way over here! You wanted a close up look; don't just stand there! Go look! We've got work to get back to!"

She heaved herself up on one of the railings, as did the four kids. Peter and Andrew contented themselves with leaning on the top bars.

Andrew whispered, "how long do you think it'll take?"

"Not long, not with those four," Peter answered in an equally low voice. Whether they'd learned it from them, from the crew down at The Cottages - Garrison and Goniff and the others - or from Caeide, or whether it just came naturally, their lot could pull a con as slick and smooth as any he'd seen

"You did a fine job of picking out those," he offered quietly to Jamie and Louisa approvingly. All of their horses were highly spirited and not overly accommodating to those who'd not been properly introduced. But these four?? Oh, they were 'Haven Ladies', through and through!

Or, as Peter frequently phrased it, "ladies of 'aven, pissy as bloody 'ell, every one of them, if you don't know 'ow to 'andle em properly!!! Takes a special knack, you know, but once you master THAT, you'll likely 'ave them purring like a kitten. Least that's w'at I've always found," usually with a sly grin over at Caeide. Of course, that usually got a teaspoon smacked over his head in return, before the laughter started.

Jamie grinned, "if this don't get them over their wanting a 'aven mare or few, don't know w'at would."

Louisa nodded, quite pleased with their efforts. "And as for seeing them on their way with a sound message, like you did before, Da, well, Duggan's taking his ease over in the corner, and you KNOW how he feels about strangers in his territory."

By the time the McCaudles limped back to their car, they had been bitten, kicked, and shoved most thoroughly. Their clothing was ripped and torn, bloodied from their many grazes, and covered in an assortment of materials that had not been there upon their arrival. 

There was the slobber the horses had snorted all over them, seemingly in derision. There was the pond weed they'd accummulated when Firefly had shoved them into that body of water, right after she'd taken a good bite out of one of them. And there was the muck from where Duggan had butted them into the soppy windrow of manure and urine-soaked straw Haven was letting mellow and dry out a bit before spreading in the orchard. Duggan had added to their various bruises, and hadn't hesitated to get in a good nip of his own when Angus had turned to kick at him.

The two had reached the fence at a limping run, dove under, the horses and ram standing there, seemingly with amused smirks on their faces.

"Well, gentlemen, had enough of a look? Somehow, I just don't see you as a good fit; don't seem they took a fancy to you," Caeide had said placidly.

There were scowls and threats, demands for reparations for their injuries and spoiled clothes, none of which made much of an impression. Neither did the blurting out of a stream of invective from Angus, nor the rolling out of garbled accusations against Peter and Andrew stemming from Derrin's time at Stalag 13.

Caeide sighed, glancing around at her family. "They really are tiresome, aren't they? Best we make a call to the Constable, here and the others along the way. Doubt they'll be all that pleased, outsiders (no matter their family connections) thinking to come in here and thinking to do business by threats and such. Wouldn't be surprised if there's not some law or something against such, even."

"Wouldn't be surprised if you're not right, Caeide-luv," Newkirk smirked, fondling the revolver he had tucked into his belt, something they'd seemed to miss first time around. "Expect that could get a bloke into all kinds of trouble. Might even miss their transport back 'ome, w'erever the 'ell that is, from sitting in a jail cell w'ile it's all being sorted out."

Andrew added his two cents worth. "Ya know, guys, you have to wonder if they've tried anything like this before. Maybe we should have the Constable look into where else they've been, see if there's been any other trouble along the way. I mean, McCaudle was a nasty sort back in camp, he's been a nasty sort here. Seems like maybe he's been nasty inbetween, too." 

There was that innocent, country bumpkin look Derrin had made such fun of, with that tiny gleam of pure wicked mischief laying deep behind Andrew's eyes.

That got the McCaudles' attention, well enough. They couldn't afford for any damned lawman to go looking too carefully into their doings. That old associate of their father's HAD come across misfortune during their visit, and his family probably had noticed those valuables being missing by now.

A quick, "now, no need for all that. We get the message. You don't want to sell, and that's your right, of course. We're businessmen, we understand that. No hard feelings, okay?"

Newkirk growled, the fake pleasant look fading as if it had never been there. "Oh, there's more than a few of those, McCaudle. Best not be back, and you might tell the Gregory's we're none too pleased with them prattling our business to you, or sending you this way. You'd think the neighborly thing to do would 'ave been for them to let us know up front w'at you were wanting; could 'ave told them right off we weren't interested and saved everyone the bother."

Andrew scolded, "now, Peter, that's not really fair. We don't really know the Gregory's that well; they probably didn't realize it would be a bother, them just sending their grandsons along like this."

Caeide growled, "well, they'll know now! Off with the pair of you then; lost half the afternoon with your nonsense!"

And they left, casting a wary look in the mirror as they drove off. Angus had had a glimmering of an idea that maybe those old folks had somehow given these bastards a heads up, but that sure didn't seem to be the case.

"You think we should warn them those three are really pissed at them? Well, Newkirk and the woman, anyway."

Derrin snorted in derision. "No, let them find it out the next time they come face to face. Bad enough finding out those old folks don't have a dime to their name, other than the land and turns out IT has a loan against it! Have to tell Dad he had it all wrong; he'll be disappointed."

"Yeah, but we did good on that mess up in Scotland. That should jolly him out of a temper," Angus offered.

They left the next morning, leaving their filthy clothes in a corner for their grandmother to deal with. A quick raised fist changed the mind of the car rental agent, who'd thought to assess an additional charge for the muck all over his seats. 

And they were on their way home, full of stories and complaints, but with a nice bit of blunt and valuables to placate their father. Til the customs agents had found their stash during a routine check, and THAT was taken for 'just a look at the properties sheet, you know." The men were out and gone, leaving their suitcases and all else behind, before the agents returned. Heading home empty-handed.

"Dad's gonna be pissed," Angus offered glumly, getting an apprehensive look and nod from his brother.

Bern Gregory was just finishing the milking, just heaved the bucket up to the porch, when he heard the horses coming up the lane. "Maddie, looks like we've got company," he called. 

Maddie came out from the house, wiping her hands on her apron. "Who . . .? Why, it's Caeide and her lot. Well, part anyway. You don't think they're bearing a grudge from those boys, do you?"

"Seems there's smiles aplenty on those faces, Maddie. Guess we'll see, though," Bern said, turning to the visitors with just a little reluctance. Well, while there was, or at least had been, good will between them and those at Haven, those grandsons could have torn that to nothing from what THEY'D experienced. Still, there WERE those smiles, and the voices now calling out to them seemed relaxed and friendly enough.

"And it's thanking you we are for letting us know trouble was coming our way," Caiede said as Andrew placed a large market basket on the kitchen table while Maddie scurried to get a pot of tea going. "I know you put up your own things, but thought you might enjoy a taste of what my family seems to particularly relish as well. Jams and conserves and various pickles and such; Andrew picked these out for you. A pair of cheeses. And though it's not from Haven, there's a man down near Llanbrynmair that does smoked hams to a right turn. Peter was getting a pair for us, and decided you might find it a treat, so he made it three and added in one of those as well. The children remembered you both had a sweet tooth, and had my brother bring in extra of their favorites when he visited a couple of days ago, so you'll find those as well."

It was a pleasant visit, with the Gregory's giving more of a background on their grandsons, their daughter and granddaughter and the rest. Well, the time they had all spent on this place when Bern had been sick had given them the basics, but now they heard much more. 

"So it's sorry we are for ever having mentioned Haven or your fine horses; it was just that they'd been talking about their own, and it seemed a safe enough subject," Maddie had confessed with a rueful shake of her heard.

"And that you, none of you, are holding us to account for their wicked nonsense, that we appreciate," Bern acknowledged, having heard just enough to explain their grandsons' battered appearance when they'd come back from that excursion to Haven.

"Gee," Andrew exclaimed, "we wouldn't do anything like that! You warned us they were coming, and besides, you can't be responsible for everything your relatives do! I know I've got a couple of cousins I wouldn't want to be held responsible for! They're really mean and nasty and not to be trusted, but that doesn't mean the REST of the family is."

"And speaking of the rest of the family, you mentioned you wished your daughter and granddaughter were well and away from this McCaudle and those two. Did you mean that? And would THEY wish that also?" Caeide offered.

"Oh, aye, I meant it well enough, and I believe they'd fall down on their knees with praise were it to be so. But Arran McCaudle would never allow them to leave, certainly not our Bess, nor Maggie either unless he marries her off to one of his no-account friends like he's been promising." Maddie looked ready to cry at the thought.

Caeide glanced at Peter and Andrew, getting a rueful look of agreement. 

"Might kick up a fuss, this Arran, if 'e were to find out, Caeide," Peter warned.

"Well, there's nothing to say he might not have his suspicions, but if they truly WEREN'T here, and naught in the village could SAY they were or had been, it just might be possible to pull the wool over his eyes."

Bern and Maddie were looking as bewildered as you could expect, and the next didn't clarify much.

"Would you be satisfied if they were away and safe, even if not here with you? Someplace with those of goodwill, where they'd not have to be fearful of a raised fist?"

"That is all we could ever ask," Maddie proclaimed.

"Ah, well, we'll see what tomorrow brings," Caeide smiled.

"In the meantime, I believe there's one other little gift for you, outside. Well, it's more in the manner of a favor, actually, so you mustn't feel obliged to accept if you prefer not. We've a mare, barren it would seem; good natured lady she is, our Firefly, with those she likes, but a bit tempery with those she doesn't, as your grandsons can testify. I believe she bit one, and knocked them both into the pond. As you know, we're some particular about where our horses go, and they never leave without a 'claim-back' agreement, so they're never to go to a third-party. But it seemed that you might find a use for a good steady mare, suited both for riding and for drawing the cart, and not adverse to pulling a light plow for the garden on occasion, being willing to give her an affectionate home in return."

Andrew chimed in, "she's real fond of apples and pears, and she likes her forelock stroked, and she's real calm about being brushed. Come on, come meet her," he urged with a wide grin on his face.

And they did, and it seemed a goodly match from the smiles on the old couple's faces and the gay prance in Firefly's step.

Wyoming - Ranch of Arran McCaudle

"Bess? Bess! Damn it, Bess, where are you? Man comes in from a hard morning's work, he shouldn't have to go chasing after his wife to find out why the hell the noon meal's not on the table!" Arran fumed, as he stomped from room to room. 

He'd not expected Maggie to be here, not quite yet; he'd had one of the hands drive her into town to start picking out whatever small bits of finery she wanted for her wedding day, and he figured the girl would take advantage of the opportunity, females being what they were. Still, he'd cautioned her, "your Sunday dress will do just fine, so don't be spending my hard-earned money on something foolish like that. Just a trifle or two, maybe a fancy handkerchief or new ribbons for your bonnet."

Well, Joss Tanner wasn't expecting a fashion plate; he needed a strong and healthy young wife, capable of doing her share on his ranch, giving him a brood of sons to follow after. Needed one who'd keep her mouth shut about any little 'extra activities' Joss got up too. Arran had trained Maggie on that score, but he'd already warned Joss that sometimes the back of a hand was needed since Maggie took after her mother in more than a few ways. Still, he didn't figure Joss was one for sparing the whip or the fist when need be, so he figured they'd do well enough together. And more important than that, it cemented that partnership Arran and Joss were starting up, one that neither Maggie NOR Bess needed to be talking freely about.

By the time, old Pete rolled in, stuttering around that he'd somehow lost Maggie, Arran had started getting a real odd feeling about his womenfolk. That was furthered along by the short note that showed up in the mail dropbox in town. In fact, it was one of the shortest notes you could imagine.

"Arran. We've left. Bess"

Letter - Two Months Later -  
"Dear Mam and Da,  
We are trusting to the mails to see that you have news of Maggie and myself. You may or may not have heard from Arran that she and I decided to make our way elsewhere. As you know, things had not been as they should between Arran and myself for quite some time, and it has not gotten better. He'd decided Maggie was best suited for a man much like himself, and that was a life neither she nor I could bear to think of.  
It's probably best I not tell you where we are, at least not for now, but be assured it is a safe, comfortable place with people who are showing us a great deal of kindness.  
Be assured as well that we are not pocketing on their charity. I am, thanks to you, Mam, a creditable seamstress and have found decent employment in a small specialty shop, and Maggie is learning the trade as well. At least, until something else catches her fancy, which it might just. There is a music store quite close at hand and a book store as well, and she spends much of her off hours there. I believe she is becoming rather fond of the man who runs the music store, and he is quite a different type than her father and brothers, I assure you. I would not mind seeing a match there, if they should continue on as they are now.  
As for myself, it is good to have people around me again, other than Arran and the boys and the ranch hands. I have made a rather special friend, a young woman by the name of Amy Ann. She is most unusual, and has borne many hardships of her own, but is of such a wise and joyful nature one cannot help but have their spirits lifted while being around her. Maggie and I have the flat directly below hers, and she is keeping a kindly eye on the both of us, and wants me to assure you she'll let no harm come to us. Well, between her and her friends, I have every confidence that is so.  
Please write - the post office box at the bottom is a good one to reach us. I know I don't have to ask you not to mention this to Arran, though I doubt he'd come asking. Even so, best any letters from us be kept in a very secure place, or burnt if you feel that safer.  
Much love from both of us, and much thanks - for absolutely everything!  
Your loving daughter, Bess


End file.
